It's great to see the tributes and rememberances of the Great ELVIN JONES on this website, which I've never seen before.

I attended Elvin Ray Jones' wake and funeral service last Tuesday. Elvin touched my soul and heart with his drumming and led me toward deciding to be a Jazz drummer, when I heard the first few choruses of "Afro Blue" from the great recording, "Coltrane Live at Birdland". The fire, excitement, and depth of his drumming was all I needed and I took the "cue" seriously, even as a stoned 13-year-old back in 1976.

The service, though I couldn't get there till half way through, was packed with Mr.Jones' family, friends, and admirers. It was like a living "who's who" of the music world, from Wynton Marsalis' excellent playing with a New Orlean's style marching band. Max Roach...Ben Riley...countless super-high-level musical beings were there--the place was simply vibrating and it was not a somber event, but in fact, was like ELVIN's drumming--inspring, encouraging, spiritually THERE.

I am a New York City drummer, myself -- many have not heard of me (yet) but I am 40 years old and can really lay down a groove--jazz, funk, whatever it is. Hope to meet you soon.

With Love and Respect: THANK YOU ELVIN JONES.
--Greg Burrows

I am an Australian drummer who now lives in Northern Italy.I was heavily involved in the Melbourne jazz scene for 15 years before moving to Europe.In my younger days after various smokin' gigs people were always very complimentary but I can say without question that every ounce of inspiration came from Elvin Jones.For me there was no one else! His approach to the drums single-handedly changed not only the course of drumming but the music itself- how many other drummers can this be said of?
Through Coltrane's moodiest searching it seemed to me that Elvin's playing was always loaded with optimism and joy. He was the absolute essence of music and represented everything that I love about music. Nothing was clinical with Elvin-he was a risk taker and this along with the fact that he lived and breathed every stroke is the reason why he was loved by and excited people the world over.
I'm glad I had the opportunity to see him perform in Umbria last year(2003) and if I could say one thing to him today it would be "thankyou for playing with such heart and soul".

Last year my wife and i drove from the Richmond Virginia area where we now live with our son back to New York to my mom's house in one quick weekend that I was very lucky to get off from work to see Elvin play at the Blue Note in the Village. Of all the people that I have seen perform im my short 33 years, I must say that Elvin was unbelieveable. I have been playing drums since I was 16 years old and have seen everyone from Terry Bozzio to Joe Morello. Only during Elvin's show that night did I understand that it is possible to affect someone's emotions through music. I thought I knew about music but I really didn't. I was so blown away by news of his death that even now it is hard not to cry just at the mention of his name or the sound of A Love Supreme. Thank you Elvin for opening my eyes.

To say that Elvin Jones was just a great jazz drummer is an understatement. He was so much more: a humanitarian, an appreciator of folklore (especially of Japanese song, thanks to his wife Keiko), a warm-hearted human being and a great and dear friend.

When I first took notice of Elvin was in late 1987, when I was still a Goth and the CD revolution was in its infancy. I saw an expensive German import CD reissue of "Live At The Village Vanguard" over at Poo-Bah's in Pasadena. I bought it with some Christmas money I had received and my life was changed. It was the strength of "Spiritual" that touched and astonished me. But it was Elvin's drumming, shifting between volcanic and groove, that struck me. Shortly afterwards, I would buy "A Love Supreme" and the rest, they say, is history.

Fast forward to 1995, when at the urging of drummer Len Curiel, I finally caught Elvin do his stuff live at the Hollywood Catalina Bar & Grill Club. Seeing Elvin from afar was quite intimidating and I made an ass of myself by quoting some of my favorite solos of his ("Inner Urge" by Joe Henderson and "Bedouin" by Grant Green). He kindly acknowledged but kept it short since he had to ready himself.

Len reserved a table right in front of Elvin's drum kit. Did I survive? Yes, I sure did! What an initiation to this amazing man! Our eye contact was always evident and we acted like his restless supporters. By the end of the night (after the influence of some drink), we were joking and laughing and I had received the first of many affectionate hugs from Elvin.

(A side note, even though Len and I are in different worlds and not really in touch, I still owe a debt of gratitude for introducing me to Elvin. It will always be there.)

I saw Elvin on a yearly basis from thereon where he mostly played at the Jazz Bakery in Culver City, which also provided a great opportunity to hang with the man and really become great friends over the years. That would be the basis of all of his LA shows and I would catch anywhere between 4 to 5 shows a week. For me, all theatre acting and spoken word were put on hold whenever Elvin came to town, every year from 1996 to 1998 (and a jazz clinic done over at the LA Musician's Union in 1997).

But his visits started to taper off around 1999. He was originally booked to do the Bakery again in 1999, but had to cancel his his week there for reasons unbeknownst to me. He eventually came back the following year doing a two-night (?) stand at the Knitting Factory in Hollywood. Sources tell me that was one of his weakest gigs.

He eventually came back in 2002, but I had to miss him due to doing my final week acting in a revival of "Holy Ghosts" in Studio City. I wanted to make that Sunday show, but I was so drained from the whole exausting experience of this play (my last), that I decided to play it local (besides, both me and Elvin had one thing in common that Sunday: we both played to sold out, overpacked houses).

There was one more chance: a popular demand return engagement at the Bakery in May 2003. I decided to take a chance, since so much had changed since the last time I saw him. My main worries were not so much how he would play (I had heard he had surgery), but would he remember me (we're both fellow Virgos, by the hoo: Elvin is September 9th, myself September 13th)?

Thankfully, he and Keiko did. It was a beautiful reacquaintence. He hung out just like good neighbours catching up with things. I totally forgot he was the man who played with John Coltrane and would be the man about to blast as many impressions in a matter of time. This was my friend. We caught up with what had been happening to us: my unemployment, the current Presidency, his bypass operation on his leg, his instinct when he was about to visit his doctor's office at the World Trade Center on 9/11 (no, the doctor didn't survive), my folks' recent or forthcoming surgeries, people we knew, changes, my electronica music, all sorts of things. We really got into catching up big time. Magnificent.

Both him & Keiko wanted me to return once more to see them again and got me on the list for that following Saturday. This particular visit, I gave him a copy of a drum & bass piece I dedicated to him entitled "The Pulses Of The Valleys", which is inspired by his excursions into Japanese folk songs, of which he highly appreciated.

Both shows I saw this visit were outstanding. His power (in spite of his operation) was not diminished but both lyrical and rhythmic. He was still that powerhouse and that warm human presence that jazz in general needs. At the end of the Saturday show, he wanted me to return once more and see him one more time, but two things stopped me: 1) I was so tired the following Sunday, that I slept most of the day, and 2) Maybe it was my shyness speaking, but I didn't want to overstay my welcome. Besides, I was very happy and satisfied to have seen both shows.

I didn't know that it would be the last time I would see him.

God, we took him so much for granted, that in the end, Mother Earth & Father Time have their say. I write this today because I was having dinner with my folks this afternoon and gave my father a Chick Corea DVD. As we were watching Corea, Lenny White, Stanley Clarke & Joe Henderson, we were admiring how much the musicians were enjoying themselves: being loose, enjoying company, playing some serious grooves and just living for the moment.

At some point I said, that above thing was why I'm going to miss Elvin very much. I will miss his communication with the great musicians he's played with. I will miss his friendship and humor. I will miss his warmth and generousity. But especially, I will miss those magnificent bear hugs of appreciation and friendship.

Elvin Jones...there will never be another man like him...PERIOD.